


With Every Breath That I Am Worth

by aworldofmyownliking



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, I wrote this before the Prelude comic came out, Multi, So imagine my dismay when Marvel didn't accept my fic as canon, good 'ol scarlet vision fluff, it feels so great to write fic again :'), parting is such sweet sorrow, the one where Clint helps Wanda and Vision sneak around and gives me Les Mis feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aworldofmyownliking/pseuds/aworldofmyownliking
Summary: Speculative post-Civil War fic where everyone thinks about choices, Wanda and Vision find their way back to each other, and Clint realizes there's more to Vision than he once thought. Told from Wanda and Clint's POV, this story starts after the escape from The Raft and ends with Wanda in Edinburgh just before Infinity War.





	With Every Breath That I Am Worth

***

_“What are you thinking about, Miss Maximoff?”_

_“Please, call me Wanda.”_

_“Alright. What are you thinking about, Wanda?”_

_“I’m thinking about choices.”_

_“What about them?”_

_“We all make choices in this life. It’s what defines us, I think. Like when you saved me in Novi Grad. You were giving your purpose more of a meaning and it will shape who you are. Does that make sense?”_

_“Yes, it makes perfectly logical sense. There are good and bad choices, and they make you good or bad in time.”_

_“Sometimes it’s not that simple.”_

***

Almost three months after their escape from The Raft, Wanda Maximoff smiled (a true, happy smile) for the first time since leaving the hellish oceanic prison, and Clint Barton was the first to notice. They were all crammed together at the breakfast table in a dismal little apartment in the small Polish town of Lublin when it happened.

Natasha had pulled some strings with her safe house connections after they’d left Bucky in Wakanda, and the group of fugitives—Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, Scott, and himself—had been laying low in Poland for the past two and a half weeks. It was a little too close for comfort, if you asked Clint, which no one ever did.

Sam pulled the chair out next to him and sat down, roughly bumping Clint’s arm in the process and causing him to spill coffee on his eggs.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” he mumbled to himself. He missed the wide, open spaces of the farm where he wasn’t constantly banging into his teammates every six seconds, and where he could enjoy his breakfast with Laura in peace before any of the kids woke up.

A sharp pang of longing went through him and he sighed. Who knew when he’d get to see his family again. They’d stayed with them for a little over a week after their initial escape, but Clint had agreed to leave at the insistence of Nat and Steve. It wasn’t safe there, he knew. It still stung, though, having to leave his family after he’d just been reunited with them again.

Instead, here he was, nose to nose with “Team Cap”, as the new stations had started calling them. Oh, how lucky he was.

“Good morning, Wanda!” Sam chirped, adding cream and sugar to his own cup of coffee. “How are you this morning?”

Clint looked up to see Wanda standing in the doorway of the kitchen wearing her usual ensemble of dark gray and black. Natasha had helped her dye her hair a lighter color, which he knew she hated. She was constantly messing with it, like she was doing now, passing the orange strands between her fingers in a nervous gesture.

“Fine,” was Wanda’s somewhat flippant response as she plopped down into the seat opposite Clint. Clint watched as she reached for a piece of toast, wordlessly passed her the strawberry jam, and gave her a soft smile.

The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Life after The Raft had been rough for Wanda, leaving her with angry, slowly fading burn marks on her neck and bouts of horrible night terrors. It hurt Clint to see the kid suffer so much. He’d tried to give her as much space as she needed, but it was starting to frustrate him that he couldn’t help her beyond asking if she was okay, which he knew she’d stopped answering truthfully so that he’d stop asking.

 “What’s the plan for today, Steve?” Natasha asked as she flipped a piece of platinum blonde hair out of her face.

Clint was still getting used to the new look on her, too. The entire time he’d known Nat her hair was always cherry red, but he thought the blonde suited her. Not that he’d ever tell her that, of course. He had too much fun teasing her about it.

The table looked expectantly at Steve, whose usually comforting demeanor was now a stern, subdued mask.

“I’m looking into a few things,” he said. “Nat, I’ll need your help, and Wanda’s, too. I’m looking for more ways to help cure Bucky’s mind…Wanda?”

Clint looked at the girl who was sitting across from him. She was looking out the window of the apartment, her eyes a million miles away. At Steve’s inquiry, she turned back to the table.

“What? Oh, sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I was off in my own little world.”

The crew returned to the conversation at hand, but Clint kept stealing suspicious glances at Wanda. It may have been too quick to notice, but he knew he wasn’t imagining things. Wanda Maximoff had been staring out the window with a big, moony smile plastered all over her face and Clint was pretty sure he knew why.

***

_“How did you find me?”_

_“I intercepted a message that said there’d been rumors of you all coming to Wakanda.”_

_“Why are you here, Vision?”_

_“To—to see you. The way we left things…and when Mr. Stark told me about The Raft, I had to see you and make sure you were alright. I miss you terribly, Wanda.”_

_“I think you should go.”_

***

Wanda turned around after the two gentle knocks sounded on her window just in time to see Vision phasing through from outside. The moonlight spilling in from the street cast his shadow in an elongated shape across the room, and Wanda followed it like a guide until she was standing directly in front of him.

“Hello,” Vision said, floating down to the floor, his yellow cape swishing behind him.

“Hi,” Wanda replied. She could feel the wide grin plastered on her face that she inevitably always wore whenever she saw him these days.

She felt like one of the school girls back in Sokovia; the ones who would always clutch her arm and ask her if Pietro was available with their high-pitched voices and fluttering eyelashes. They had annoyed her to no end, and now, she _was_ them.

She’d told herself a million times that this was dangerously reckless, yet the two of them kept scheduling more meetings. And Wanda found the more meetings they scheduled, the more she missed Vision when he left, and the more she didn’t care about how reckless they were being.

 “Thanks for meeting me here while everyone’s gone. I’m sorry about earlier, but I think Clint is suspicious. He’s been following me around for the last few days.”

Vision frowned. He grasped Wanda’s hands and stepped a little bit closer. “What would you like to do?”

Wanda blinked. It took her a moment to process his question. He’d started rubbing crescent moons across the tops of her hands with his thumbs, leaving her throat dry and her hands tingling. She was suddenly very aware just how close they were. This was all still so exciting and _new_ , that sometimes their interactions left her head spinning.

“I, uh, think we should lay low for a little bit. Stop seeing each other,” she said finally.

Vision’s shoulders slumped slightly and his gaze dropped from her face to the floor. Wanda winced.

“Just until I can throw Clint off,” she finished quickly. “It’s too risky. I don’t want to completely stop seeing you, Vis, but you have to understand it’s the smartest choice right now.”

“Yes, I understand,” he replied, his gaze still locked on the floor.

Wanda’s heart went out to him. She hated seeing him upset. She squeezed his hands in a comforting gesture. “Won’t they miss you back at the compound?”

Vision smiled at that. It had become a private joke between them, since Vision was almost always alone at the compound these days. Tony was too distracted with mentoring (if you could call it that) Peter Parker and Rhodey was visiting his sister’s family for an indefinite amount of time.

“I’m sure they’re wondering where I’ve gone off to this time,” Vision said. “I’ve got them worried sick.”

Wanda laughed, but it was cut off by the sound of her bedroom door lock being picked.

In an instant, Clint burst into the room, nocked an arrow in his bow and had it pointed squarely at Vision’s forehead.

Wanda spun around, red magic crackling between her fingers. She moved in front of Vision, who only seemed slightly startled by the fact that Clint had just waltzed in, and not that he was pointing an arrow at him.

“I _knew_ it,” Clint said. He kicked the door shut behind him and lowered his weapon. “I knew something was going on with you two.”

Wanda felt the blush creeping up her neck until her face burned and the red tendrils dissipated when she realized Clint wasn’t going to be a threat. Both Vision and Wanda watched him as he walked a few steps across the room and plunked down onto Wanda’s bed.

“You have a loooot of explaining to do,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest in a smug fashion.

“Get out,” Wanda snapped.                                                                            

Clint sniffed, but didn’t budge.  

 “Clint, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“I’d better go,” Vision said. He may not have understood all the intricacies of social interaction, but he could tell this was a conversation he shouldn’t be present for.

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Wanda took her eyes off Clint, and her gaze immediately softened when she looked at Vision. The hard, glittering eyes from seconds before became pleading and confused.

“Wait—” Wanda began. She reached for his hand in an attempt to make him stay.

“Don’t worry,” Vision said, finding her hand and squeezing her fingers lightly.

 _I’ll find you again,_ were the unspoken words that hung between them.

Wanda nodded. Vision placed a chaste kiss on her temple as he turned to go. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Clint shift awkwardly on the bed.

“Goodbye, Wanda,” he said. He turned toward the archer and gave a slight bow of his head. “Clint.”

Wanda watched him phase back through her bedroom wall and bit the inside of her lip. This was not the way she’d imagined tonight going.

“Yeah, you’re lucky I don’t tell Steve!” Clint called after him. But Vision was gone.

Wanda turned back around to face Clint, unamused. She could feel the irritation flowing through her, threatening to spill out of her fingertips in a scarlet storm. She’d meant to be cautious with Vision, and she thought she was doing just that when she’d told him they should cool off their meetings for a little while. And now Clint had barged in and ruined everything.

But Wanda knew it wasn’t Clint’s fault. She had no one to blame but herself. They’d been too reckless, too sure of themselves that they wouldn’t be caught. It was bound to happen eventually.

“That’s not funny.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Wanda! You know I wouldn’t tell Steve before letting you explain yourself. Which you should. Right now.”

She narrowed her eyes. With a flick of her wrist, the heaviest pillow on her bed rose up into the air and connected with the side of Clint’s head.

“I told you to get _out_!”

 

***

_“How is it not that simple?”_

_“You’ll see. Sometimes choices are tied up in complications, sometimes they’re not. Sometimes you think you’re making the right choice but it ends up being the wrong one. Things change.”_

_“Wanda?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Do you regret them? Your choices?”_

_She thinks of HYDRA and her powers, of Ultron and the Avengers, of her brother._

_“I think it’s still too early to tell.”_

***

Wanda didn’t speak to Clint for the next two days. On the third day, he found an envelope on his pillow, his name written across it in neat cursive letters.

Inside was a letter from Vision.

_Clint,_

_I take it that you and Wanda have worked things out, as no alarms have been sounded (figuratively speaking, of course). Wanda cares for you very much and I’m grateful she has a friend like you during this strange and dangerous time._

_I would very much appreciate if you would give Wanda the letter I’ve written her. I will be eagerly awaiting her response. Tell her to meet me on the roof tonight at 11 o’clock._

_Thank you for keeping our secret._

He had not signed his name at the bottom. Clint peered inside the envelope to find a smaller, thinner envelope inside with Wanda’s name printed on it in the same script.

He walked across the hall and banged on Wanda’s door.

“It’s me, open up.”

“Go away,” came Wanda’s muffled response.

Clint sighed and slid her letter under the door. He watched the shadows of her footfalls cross the room, heard the envelope scratch against the floor as she picked it up. It was silent for a beat and then Wanda slowly opened the door.

“What is this?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

The look on her face was one Clint hadn’t seen in a few years, not since she’d first joined the Avengers. All of her defenses were up, like when a cat paused just before it raised up on its hackles and pounced.

“He left it for me,” Clint said, indicating the letter in her hand. He held up his own letter. “There was a note for me, too. Can we talk?”

Reluctantly, Wanda stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. Clint did a quick take down both sides of the hall to make sure no one was lurking and crossed the threshold.

“Look, I know you don’t need me to lecture you about how badly this could all turn out. I won’t tell Steve or the others. In fact, I’m going to remove myself from the entire equation. I don’t want to know any more details. But just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

Wanda nodded and shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “How did you figure it out?”

Clint snorted. “No offense, Wanda, but it’s kind of obvious. Especially after what you told me in Wakanda. I’ve been around the block once or twice, you know.”

He remembered that day in Wakanda vividly. They’d only just arrived in the secret African kingdom and he’d been walking past Wanda’s room when he’d heard the distinct noise of someone crying and trying not to be too loud about it. Her door wasn’t closed all the way, and he could see her curled up on the bed, facing away from him.

“Hey, can I come in?” he asked, knocking on the door. Her nod was almost imperceptible, but he crossed the room and sat gingerly beside her on the soft duvet. “Is it the nightmares again?”

“No,” her voice was thick with tears. “It’s not that.”

Clint frowned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Wanda shook her head. Her shoulders shuddered as a new bout of tears flowed.

Clint figured she wouldn’t say anything and he’d contented himself with just sitting next to her in order to make her feel better. Eventually, the tears stopped and she was silent for a long time. Just as he was getting up to leave, the words all came tumbling out of her mouth.

“I miss Vision.”

Wanda stayed rolled on her side, facing away from him. When Clint sat back down on the bed she continued.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I know I shouldn’t miss him this much, but I do. He was my friend…sometimes my only friend, especially after Pietro. I would give anything to talk to him again one more time. I hate what these Accords have done to us. I hate the decisions we had to make because of them, I hate having to hide from everyone. Look where it got us!”

She began to cry again, and this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. 

It didn’t take long for Clint to connect the dots. He remembered the way he’d seen Vision immediately fall to the tarmac on his knees to make sure she was alright after Rhodes had blasted her with War Machine’s sonic beams. Or how moody she’d been as they drove to pick up Scott Lang after she’d buried Vision through multiple stories of compound rubble. At first, he’d thought she’d been angry with Vision (and maybe she was), but now he understood what he hadn’t noticed before.  

It was the way Wanda was speaking about him gave him the most pause. There were too many hateful things that came to mind when he thought about Vision at that particular moment. But the way Wanda was talking about him told him that wasn’t what she wanted—or needed—to hear right now.

Clint could hear the tenderness in her voice. She may not have realized it, but he did. It was the same way he’d heard Tony talk about Pepper, and the way he’d heard Nat speak about Banner after he’d disappeared.

It was the same way he talked about Laura and the kids. It was the way you talked about someone you loved, and all the words that Wanda wasn’t saying said everything.

He placed a hand on Wanda’s trembling shoulder. “I hate what they’ve done to us, too, kid.”

Now, in the Lublin apartment, Wanda stood in front of him with beet red cheeks. Her gaze became fixed on the floor and she toed the creaky wooden panels with her boot.

“I have to admit, I didn’t understand it at first,” Clint said (he still didn’t fully understand it, either, if he was being honest). He took a seat on the bed, careful to watch out for any flying pillows this time. “My first suspicion was that he was using you to get intel for Tony or something, that he was manipulating you. Hence the following you around and the barging in last night. I was angry, because of how he kept you in the compound—”

Wanda looked up. “That’s not what you think,” she said softly.

Clint held a hand up. “But when I saw you two together last night, I knew that that’s not what it was at all. I just need to know that both of you are considering the consequences of your actions.”

Wanda snorted. “Thanks, Dad.”

She crossed the room and joined him on the bed. She began picking at her already chipped black finger nail polish (a gift Nat had swiped for her after helping break them out of The Raft).

“It always comes back to choices,” Wanda murmured.

“What?”

She shook her head, peach strands of hair blocking her face.

“The Accords forced us all to make choices, and I think Vision realized he wasn’t happy with the one he’d made. He told me so in Wakan—”

Clint waved a hand in the air as if he were waving her words away.

“Right sorry, you don’t want to know details. Anyways, he decided to make a different choice. And I think we’re both still trying to figure out if it’s the right one. We’ve both agreed that whatever this is, we want to do it right. So, we’re being very careful. I promise.”

Clint nodded. His burner phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling that he had a text message.

“It’s Nat, she needs help with something,” he said, flipping the phone closed. He stood from the bed and ruffled Wanda’s hair. “Good talk.”

She smacked his hand away. “I _will_ hit you with another pillow.”

“Hey,” he said just as he was about to leave the room. “If you need any advice or whatever, I’ll give you some. But please, for the love of God, try not to need any advice.”

Wanda rolled her eyes. She knew deep down that if she were ever in a crisis Clint would drop everything and help her, and she thanked him as he left. She looked down at the letter still in her hands, her fingers tracing over the cursive lettering of her name on the cream-colored paper.

She remembered that first night Vision had come to her in Wakanda. How she’d dismissed him, told him to leave. After wanting to talk with him for so long she’d been surprised to find how _angry_ she was on seeing him outside on her balcony.

_I miss you terribly, Wanda._

_I think you should go._

But then he’d asked her if he could explain himself. And his voice had been so small and pleading, she’d almost taken pity on him, but she loathed pity and her frustration held her back. In the end, she agreed to allow him to explain whatever it was he’d come to explain, only if he allowed her to do the same. Of course, he’d agreed and they almost instantly fell back into their old pattern of stories and jokes, and ended up staying up all night talking about what had happened between them.

She told him her grievances about Steve and Tony’s falling out, how she’d missed Vision but was a little upset with him at the same time, and she told him why. She told him about The Raft and going to Clint’s farm and seeing Nathaniel again. Vision listened and told her about how Rhodes was doing and Peter Parker and Tony and Pepper’s engagement.

There were more apologies about the compound and understandings, and it felt so _good_ to have her friend back.

As they talked and lapsed back into the familiar and comfortable cadence of conversation, Wanda realized the thing the two of them had needed most was just a little more time.

She just hoped now that it was on their side.

\---

Clint waited on the roof for Vision that night to come retrieve the letter Wanda had written him. He felt a little bit guilty about lying to her and telling her that Vision had asked for him to deliver the letter to avoid suspicion, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with him like he had with Wanda. When the android finally touched down soundlessly on the top of the building, he looked wary to see Clint standing there.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” Clint said when Vision kept his distance. “I just want to talk.”

“You wish to interrogate me,” Vision replied. “You believe I harbor ulterior motives, but I can assure you that’s not the case.” 

Clint moved closer so that he was eye-to-eye with Vision.

“You’re right. I’m not sure I’m entirely convinced of your motivations. So, I’m here to say that if you do _anything_ that puts Wanda in a compromising position, I swear I’ll—”

“Wanda is a person with her own agency who is capable of making her own decisions.”

The only thought that raged through Clint’s head was the memory of him fighting Vision while attempting to break Wanda out of the compound.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about agency,” he snarled.

The air crackled with the static that always seemed to accompany tension. He took several steps back and waited for the moment to pass.

Vision was the first to break the silence.

“I understand I have not given you a reason to trust my intentions. Perhaps I never will. But whatever it’s worth, I can assure you I would never do anything to put Wanda in harm’s way.”

Clint, not knowing what else to say, reached into his coat pocket and handed Wanda’s letter to Vision.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said as Vision gingerly lifted the note out of his hand, taking care not to crinkle the paper.

Clint watched Vision step up to the edge of the roof, his yellow cape billowing in the wind.

“You know, in my short time among you I’ve found that humans always have one driving factor that outweighs all others. At first, I didn’t understand, I couldn’t fathom it. But now I believe I’m beginning to.”

With the yellow moon hanging in the sky behind his head like a halo, Clint thought of an angel—capable of so much destruction yet a benevolent and gentle sentinel at the same time. There was still so much he didn’t understand about the synthetic man.

“Glory? Revenge? Ego?” Clint deadpanned.

“Love.”

 

***

_“Your absence has left me…I’m not quite sure how to explain the feeling. I just know that I’ve never felt so…heavy before. It’s odd. I feel heavy and hollow at the same time.”_

_“What about the time I sent you through the compound floor? You were pretty heavy then.”_

_She smiles this time, and Vision chuckles. The tension that was there before is gone, and he’s grateful._

_Wanda takes a step toward him._

_“Vis?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“I’ve been feeling heavy, too, without you.”_

_***_

 

Clint could _not_ believe his stroke of good luck. He’d told Wanda _one time_ that Vision had asked him to be a carrier pigeon for her and Vision’s love letters because if she did anything out of the ordinary it would seem “too suspicious”, and now it had gotten him a permanent position. He supposed that’s what he deserved for lying to her.

And for some unfathomable reason that he had still not discovered, he’d agreed to keep helping her when she’d asked him.

He never read the letters (he wasn’t a _monster_ for Christ’s sake), only delivered them to the local post office of whatever town they were staying in as soon as they got there. The rest of the letters would mysteriously show up on his or Wanda’s pillow the following day for as long as they stayed in that location, which was getting shorter and shorter as the months passed.

 But being a carrier pigeon soon graduated to covering for Wanda when she snuck out to meet with Vision every once in a while. Some of the excuses she cooked up were so wild he was honestly surprised that no one else had caught on yet.

_Wanda’s at the library._

_She went to get coffee._

_She’s at the park._

The team was now being forced to separate, as it had become too dangerous for them to stay together anymore. Their presence was starting to garner more attention wherever they went, no matter how small the town was. Tomorrow he’d be escorting Wanda to Edinburgh before going back to the farm for a little bit while everyone else dispersed to other parts of the continent before meeting in the city, save for Steve, who was going back to Wakanda to check on Bucky.

Which was how Clint had ended up here, Oceanside at dusk in Wellington, New Zealand, keeping watch for Vision and Wanda, the star-crossed lovers. The two of them were behind a copse of trees on a little concrete bench overlooking the water.

Clint checked his watch. The rest of the team would be coming this way any minute before they headed down to the water to board a ship that would take them to their next destination.

He’d been a little irritated at Wanda for wanting to do this so close to their departure time, but he’d felt himself beginning to cave when her voice adopted that forlorn tone when she’d said “I didn’t get to say goodbye last time.”

“ _So?_ ” he’d snapped.

Her eyes had flared red, and although Clint would go to his grave denying it, it scared the shit out of him.

“So, what if this is the last time?”

The sound of waves breaking over the shore and being called back to the water brought him back to the present.

“I’ll be in Edinburgh on Tuesday,” he heard Wanda say.

“Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. With every breath that I am worth.”

Clint rolled his eyes so hard he was afraid they were going to get stuck in the back of his head. Seriously, where did the guy come up with this stuff? Did Vision even need to breathe? Clint didn’t know and he didn’t really want to ask.

He remembered once when he’d gone into Wanda’s room to ask her something and she’d been hunched over at her desk, writing a response to one of Vision’s letters where he’d quoted Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29 (“Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising/Haply I think on thee, and then my state/Like to the lark at break of day arising…For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings…”). He had to admit he hadn’t pegged Vision as a romantic, but the android was continually surprising him.

Clint looked back up the road and could see Steve, Natasha, Scott, and Sam coming up over the ridge of the hill they were at the bottom of. He started to whistle the beginning refrain to “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”, Wanda’s cue that they had to leave.

He heard them murmur their goodbyes and the rustling of the branches as Vision vanished. When Wanda joined him back on the road she was wiping a tear from her eye.

“You okay?”

She nodded and sniffed. “Leaving is just always hard.”

Clint glanced back to the rest of their teammates’ fast-approaching figures. He thought about eating breakfast with Laura in the still quiet of the morning, chasing his kids around the property, his whole world safe in one place. He couldn’t imagine how torturous it was for Wanda to have to constantly be coming and going, unsure of if her future with Vision was safe. He knew that at the end of the day his family at least had safety on their side.

_Love: the one driving factor that outweighs all others._

The pang that resounded through him almost left him breathless. He knew then that no matter what he told himself or how forcefully, the reason he was doing this for Wanda was tied to the same reason he did everything in his power to protect his family: to have a little slice of home to go to while war raged around them all.

Perhaps he and Vision had more in common than he’d originally thought.

He cleared his throat, hoping Wanda didn’t notice how restricted his voice had suddenly become.

“I know what you mean.”

 

***

_“Vis?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“What if we start over? Let’s forget about what happened before. It can be just us. What if we tried that?”_

_He reaches across the space for her the same time she does, their hands interlacing in the pale Wakandan moonlight. Wanda’s painfully aware that it’s the first time they’ve touched since Vision’s return, and she can feel the violets blooming in her stomach and the roses on her cheeks._

_“I’d like that very much.”_

***

 

“You all set?”

“Yes,” Wanda replied. She set her small duffel bag down on the inside of the dingy flat Natasha had found for her in Edinburgh (Clint didn’t think these places got any tinier, but he always still managed to be surprised at the sparse amount of space).

Wanda pulled her coat tighter around her. It was much colder in Scotland than it had been in New Zealand, and the apartment’s heater hadn’t yet kicked in.

“Alright. Steve said he’s gonna do a roll call later tonight,” Clint said, gesturing to the burner phone in Wanda’s hand. “Oh! I almost forgot. I’ve got something for you.”

 He rustled around in his coat pocket and procured another letter from Vision for Wanda.

“I found it in my stuff a couple days ago,” he told her. “I’m not sure how old it is.”

Wanda unfolded the paper. “It’s new,” she said, her eyes scanning the lines of the page hungrily. “I think he’s already here in the city.”

Clint noticed the time and sighed. He was a little anxious at the thought of leaving Wanda here alone, even if just for a few days until Natasha, Sam, and Steve got into town. But he couldn’t stop the excitement that bubbled up inside him when he thought about how he would be with his family again in the next few hours.  

“I hate to do this, but I gotta go. If there’s any trouble, let me know ASAP. And if Vision gives you _any_ problems—”

Wanda began playfully shoving him toward the door. “We are not having that conversation.”

On an impulse, Clint engulfed Wanda in a quick bear hug, and she returned the gesture.

He remembered how she always talked about choices and how deliberate and thoughtful she was with the ones she made. He knew that no matter what happened, he was glad he’d been able to choose to give Wanda back the happiness she deserved. The past few months he’d been relieved to see her finally laugh and smile again (and hum, which Clint never would’ve expected from her). She’d come a long way from that scared girl living in Sokovia.

He wouldn’t trade his choice for the world, and he knew Wanda wouldn’t trade any of hers, either. He just hoped that it could stay that way for her as long as possible.

“See you around,” he said, opening the door. “Don’t talk to strangers, don’t skip curfew, don’t have any fun.”

“I won’t.”

Clint picked up his own bag and was almost around the corner of the doorjamb when Wanda stepped forward.

“Clint?”

He looked back at her, not knowing the next time he saw her it would be under much more dire circumstances. “Yep?”

“Thank you,” she said. She held up Vision’s letter in her hand. “For everything.”

\---

After Clint left, Wanda began to unpack. But she soon became unable to bear the quiet flat on her own, so she sat down at the table and closed her eyes, reaching out across time and space until she found the calm, quiet mind she was looking for.

_Come find me._

She sensed him in the hallway a few moments later before he phased through the wall. They grinned at each other, and Wanda crossed the room in two quick strides and pulled Vision close. He returned the hug with equal fervor, glad to have Wanda in his arms again.

“How were your travels?”

“Awful,” Wanda said. “Scott Lang is the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

Vision listened as she prattled on about the journey and moved about the small space as she unpacked. She told him about the cramped boats they had spent days on before arriving at a port in Scotland, the crude stories Natasha and Sam would tell that she neither understood nor found funny, and the strange, intrusive questions that Scott Lang asked her (“So can you, like, see the future? Have you ever thought about just wiping everyone’s memories so that they think we’re war heroes or something? Could you sign something for my daughter? She absolutely loves you!”).

“I’ve never been so happy to see land before,” she laughed. She placed the last of her clothes inside the closet and sat down on the dusty mattress.

“You do seem very happy,” Vision remarked, joining her.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He instantly became flustered, his lips downturned. Wanda could see his eyes whirring, wondering what mistake had been made by what he’d just said.

“I didn’t mean—I just thought you would be more upset, what with Clint leaving and being on your own—”

She giggled and placed a hand on top of his, squeezing them reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Vis, I’m only teasing,” she said. “I guess I’m a little sad…I’m mostly relieved that we finally get to have some peace and quiet.”

Vision smiled at that. “Yes, it will be nice.”

“It’s just…” she looked at him, then around the confined, filthy flat. Would there ever be a chance for them to be normal?

She knew their circumstances were anything but, yet she still wished for a regular morning back at the compound where there was no threat looming over them, or for an evening out where she wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder.

Everything was all so complicated now, and she hated it. But then again, she couldn’t really blame anyone but herself, could she? She couldn’t take back her choices now. She would just have to resign herself to living one good, blissful moment with Vision to the next and force herself to survive all of the terrible parts in between.

“Just what?” Vision asked, cutting off her train of thought.

He had started fiddling with the ends of her hair, and it took her a moment to think of what she’d been about to say.

“It all just seems too good to be true,” she said. “You and me, here alone. Maybe I’ve been on the run for too long, but I just can’t help but think something bad is going to happen.”

“The probability of something disastrous happening when we meet has always been high,” Vision said, tucking a piece of Wanda’s hair behind her ear. “But that’s never stopped us before.”

“And I won’t let it stop us, either.”

“I know,” he said. “We’ll just have to make the most of our time together.”

The tender expression on Vision’s face calmed Wanda. They’d made it this far, and as long as he was sure they could handle whatever was thrown at them next, she would be, too. The world began to fade as the two leaned into each other, their lips almost touching.

The sharp ring of the burner phone sounding throughout the room startled both of them.

“It’s just Steve,” she murmured, extricating her shaking hands from his.

The phone rang again, the small device vibrating violently against the wooden kitchen table in the middle of the room. Wanda grabbed it and flipped it open.

“Wanda?” came Steve’s voice on the other line.

“It’s me.”

“Good. Everything okay over there?”

She turned back to look at Vision, trying to slow the pounding rhythm of her heart.

He was the choice she had not expected herself to make, yet it felt like the one she was always meant to from the moment he’d lifted her out of Novi Grad. The one who’d found her again, and always would, no matter how far apart they were.

“Yep,” Wanda replied. “Everything’s perfect.”

Steve started on the instructions for tomorrow’s phone call and the plan for the coming days, but Wanda was only half listening, lost in thought about the not-so-synthetic man sitting in front of her. Her one constant in the storm.

Vision noticed her staring and smiled.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Steve said, ending the call.

 _You’re the best choice I’ve ever made, Vis,_ she thought as she hung up and rejoined him once more.

 

 

***

_“Do you remember one of our first conversations? About choices?”_

_“Mmhmm.”_

_“I said there was a logical pattern. That good choices lead you to be good and bad choices lead you to be bad.”_

_“I remember I told you it wasn’t that simple.”_

_“I believe I understand that now.”_

_“And do you regret them? Your choices?”_

_“Not at all. They’ve led me to you.”_

***

 

 


End file.
